what is life,
such that anyone with such a will
can give or take of it?
What is love,
such that we can choose to bear it,
Time is all the constancy this mortal coil can offer. . .
though not a drop is there to buy.
Time is a fleeting recourse,
far more so that air, or manatees.
Time cannot be bought, cannot be sold or given.
Time is patient, it does not envy, it does not boast.
Time keeps no record of wrongs.
But still it moves.
Even Orpheus could not buy time from hades.
He, time, is all we have to fear,
and to depend on.
What will you remember?
what will you never dream to take back?
and what would you choose to forget?
lest the present ( our future's past),
you have less time ahead of you that you ever before.